Edgewise

20

No matter how hard she focused, Calponia couldn't see through the fog surrounding them. Considering how close she'd come to being yanked out into the opaque swirling vapor, the inability to see beyond two feet in any direction wigged her out. Her nerves sparked and crackled, her internal wiring frayed from the high stress of the last few days. The binding viciously pinched the tender skin under her armpits. Her bound boobs hurt, and between the tightness and the heavy velvet clothing, every breath felt like breathing through midday jungle heat. She could feel sweat soaking into the binding cloth. If she concentrated on the feeling, the urge to itch slammed her between the eyes. Thankfully the paste holding her fake beard in place was much more horrid. It burned. She was going to have the mother of all rashes.

Priorities, Calponia. She inhaled, trying to find a calm center in her storming inner thoughts. She was heading into another hostile world. Though unlike Sanguinheim, which was hostile to her species, Arden was hostile toward her sex. Did any of the Edgewise patrons come from a realm full of sunshine and rainbows? Her mind still rang from the tag-team lecturing of Mack and Cesario. They painted a bleak picture of a backward world. A world where time stood still. That wasn't an euphemism. In the decades Cesario frequented the tavern, only a few months passed on her world.

Mack called it 'compacted time'. Some realms ran on a slower rotation than others. Like stepping out for a five minute smoke break that lasted a week on the other side of the door. That stilted sense of urgency to leave the tavern and head to Arden now made sense. According to Cesario, only minutes passed on her world since her bloody arrival at the Edgewise. They would be walking into streets swarming with Inquisitors and their rotting zealots. Mack wanted her fully briefed and well disguised. Boy, was she briefed.

Cesario's descriptions of Arden women scared the crap out of her.

Earth had issues with gender equality, but the women of Arden were barely considered human, let alone citizens. They weren't married, but sold to their husbands, who had utter control over their lives. An unmarried woman had two paths open to her, to follow God or open her legs. Even those institutions were run by men. Women were kept uneducated, even the wives of the wealthy were kept from reading as it 'spoiled the mind.' It was a mindset similar to the dark ages. Scratch that, it was worse.

Calponia couldn't wrap her head around it. Didn't they have books? Art? Did women ever rebel? She worried her lip, remembering Cesario's expression when she asked those questions. Yes, there were occasional slips, and they dearly paid for their indiscretions.

"We are almost there, Cal." She jumped at Cesario's voice, tripping over her own feet. She began to pitch forward, jerking to a halt as a strong hand caught her elbow.

"You really are quite hopeless, dear," said Lady Agatha as she pulled her to her feet. Of course the lady knight moved with grace and utter silence in that long flowing dress. Lady Agatha bit her lip to keep from smiling, carefully pressing Calponia's peeling beard back into place. Summer bright eyes were solemn as Lady Agatha reached up to tug at the other's outfit. Calponia let out a startled gush of air as the pressure on her breasts became bearable. She frowned down at her flattened chest, but whatever the knight did, her binding was undisturbed.